

SOL P. ELIAS 



























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Dreams 
Come True 

BY 

SOL P. ELIAS 

ti 


Author of 

“STORIES OF STANISLAUS” 
and others. 



Press of 

THE L. M. MORRIS COMPANY 
Modesto, California 
1923 




Copyrighted 1923, by Sol P. Elias 



Printed for private distribution. 

JUL ID '23 

©C1A752279 

mo | 


’Tis strange—but true; for truth is always strange, 
Stranger than fiction. 


—Byron. 






















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• i 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


5 



Dreams Come True 


I 

In the Hospital 

“Nurse,” said John Henderson to 
Miss Beatrice Morton as he peered 
from beneath the coverlets of his bed 
in Mount Zion Hospital. 

“Miss Morton, please,** repeated 
Henderson, the nurse not having heard 
his voice so tremulously low was the 
tone in which the patient spoke. 

John Henderson’s words betrayed 
mingled feelings of gratitude, appre¬ 
ciation and admiration. For four 
weeks, day and night, Miss Morton 


6 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


had given him the nndeviating atten¬ 
tion that only the well-trained and 
conscientious nurse could bestow up¬ 
on a patient. 

If at times, there was manifested 
by her a depth of feeling and an inten¬ 
sity of sympathy that exceeded 
the mere prefunctory fulfillment of 
her duty as a nurse, no one but Hen¬ 
derson became aware of it. Like a 
subtle influence, it was felt but not 
seen. 

Four weeks previously, John Hen¬ 
derson, at the positive command of 
his physician and against his own in¬ 
clinations, had become a patient at 
Mount Zion Hospital; for the human 
machinery required the service of a 
skilled surgeon and such careful hos¬ 
pital attention which Mountford, in 
the ‘‘ High Sierras” could not provide. 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


7 


4 4 My dear Miss Morton * ’, again said 
Henderson, having attracted the 
nurse’s attention. 44 We are about to 
part company—perhaps never to meet 
again—you to continue the practice of 
the profession which you so signally 
honor—I to return to the law in the 
good old town of Mountford. Before 
there comes that severance of rela¬ 
tions so pleasantly maintained, I wish 
to leave with you some token of appre¬ 
ciation, some evidence of gratitude, 
some little keepsake that will cause 
you in the future to remember me and 
to recall the agreeable incidents of 
my stay here under your charge. ’ ’ 
When Doctor Breckley, the noted 
surgeon, sent Henderson to Mount 
Zion Hospital, he assigned Miss Beat¬ 
rice Morton, his most competent nurse 
and a graduate of Stanford University 


8 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


—Henderson’s own Alma Mater—to 
the case. Meeting her for the first 
time in his room at the hospital, Hen¬ 
derson immediately became impressed 
with her refined demeanor and her 
womanly attributes. 

Association with her under the most 
trying conditions served to intensify 
the initial estimate of her character 
that Henderson—a rare judge of hu¬ 
man nature—had formed. Besides 
there was a bond of human sympathy 
between them, due to their love foi 
their Alma Mater, its history and tra 
ditions, which no mere acquaintance 
could create. And it was, indeed, a 
delicate picture of a hospital romance 
to witness the willingly docile accept¬ 
ance by the rugged mountain lawyer— 
the man who had by sheer force of 
mental ability won his way from the 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


9 


depths of the logging camp to the 
height of forensic success, who 
through all the years of self denial and 
effort had steadfastly pursued the 
life’s ambition, unaided by the tender 
touches of womanly sympathy—of the 
quietly and unobtrusively rendered 
merciful ministrations of the nurse. 

That John Henderson, the rough 
and ready mountain practitioner, who 
had lived a full man’s life in a man’s 
world, whose affiliations were only 
with men, desired to leave with Miss 
Morton a memento of their congenial 
companionship in the hospital, was a 
telling tribute to her personal charm 
and to her fidelity as a nurse, for in 
all the years during which John Hen¬ 
derson had buffeted with the world he 
had never been known to have fallen 
before the allurements of a pretty face 


10 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


or to have become enmeshed in an af¬ 
fair of the heart. 

“Miss Morton, I - I - -,” Henderson 
sought to continue, slightly raising his 
head. His voice choked with emotion. 
Tears welled into his large, keen, pen¬ 
etrating blue eyes that ordinarily shot 
forth the twinkle of joy. As his head 
fell back feebly on the soft pillow, his 
eyes closed and his voice became si¬ 
lent. 

Appreciating the situation, tense as 
it had suddenly become, Miss Morton 
hastened to Henderson’s bed side, and 
gently grasping his hand, sympathet¬ 
ically said: 

“Just write me the story of the 
things that have been uppermost in 
your mind—of your experiences in the 
hospital. I will appreciate that most 
of all.” 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


11 


Miss Morton resumed her knitting 
while Henderson lay quietly as if in a 
deep slumber. 

Was he writing the story upon the 
tablets of his memory? Was he paint¬ 
ing his characters in letters of living 
light? Was he investing them with 
the halo of beauty and charm that 
greeted his open eyes? Was he select¬ 
ing the choicest flowers of poesy—the 
wizardry of language—with which to 
apparel his heroine ? For there was to 
be a heroine—and a beautiful one, too, 
in the story that John Henderson was 
about to write for Miss Morton. Was 
Miss Morton to be that heorine? 

That night when the corridors of 
Mount Zion were silent save from the 
footfall of the general nurse on duty, 
and while Miss Morton was slumber¬ 
ing, unconscious of the fact that her 


12 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


patient was weaving the tender mesh 
of romance around her personality, 
John Henderson traced the requested 
Story. With an animation unusual 
for a person in his condition, he wrote 
through the almost silent watches of 
the night far into the gray dawn of the 
morning. 

At the opportune moment on the fol¬ 
lowing day and without comment the 
manuscript of the Story was given to 
Miss Morton. 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


13 


II. 

The Patienfs Story. 


A Brief Record of a Hospital 
Experience . 

I 

It was Easter Sunday in San Fran¬ 
cisco. The risen sun was shedding a 
warmth and a glow over the whole 
city that caused the entire populace 
to tingle with joy. The day was de¬ 
liciously clear—one of those marvel¬ 
ously delightful spring days which are 
the boast and the pride of the loyal 
San Franciscan. 

While the church chimes were beck¬ 
oning to the celebration of the Resur¬ 
rection, with all nature attuned to the 



14 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


glorification of the festival, John Hen¬ 
derson, convalesant from a recent op¬ 
eration, propped up in his bed in 
Mount Zion Hospital, inhaling the 
richness of the atmosphere that gently 
breezed through the open window, 
gazed upon a sight that made him 
yearn for his mountain home and that 
produced a remarkable silence in the 
usually buoyant and talkative patient. 

Hamilton Park—that had been the 
scene of the gladsome and wholeheart¬ 
ed play of the children of the neigh¬ 
borhood since Henderson became a 
patient of the hospital and whom he 
wistfully watched daily as they gam¬ 
bolled over the greensward in their 
innocent and wayward games—was 
attired in the rich green verdure of 
the springtime coloring. From the 
trees gently swaying in the cooling 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


15 


ocean winds the carols of the harbin¬ 
gers of the newly come season reached 
the receptive sonl of the patient. 

Over the gravel walks of the park, 
the home folks of the great city wend¬ 
ed the way to the sanctuaries where 
the inspiring voices of the choir, the 
pealing tones of the majestic organ, 
and the divine eloquence of the pastor 
told of the Messiah and wafted the 
auditors in the ecstacy of the event to 
a realm beyond this sphere. The side¬ 
walks were thronged with the gaily 
dressed children, accompanied by the 
elders to whom the day was one of joy, 
not only in the beneficient sunshine 
that illumined the city, but in the ex- 
hilerating influence of the occasion 
that brought them forth from the 
home and the hearthstone. On the 
pavements automobiles freighted with 


16 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


immaculately attired men and gor¬ 
geously gowned women— betokening 
the advent of spring — spun along 
rapidly, some to the devotions of the 
day and others to the pleasures of the 
Golden Gate Park or the white carpet¬ 
ed beach of the Great Ocean. 

Whither one turned, there was a 
contagious joyousness in the atmos¬ 
phere that passed from person to per¬ 
son, from soul to soul. Yet John Hen¬ 
derson, propped up in bed, viewing 
the scenes and the passing incidents 
of the moving show, was silent and 
quiet. 

“What is the thought!” said Miss 
Morton, the nurse, endeavoring to 
break the reserve of the usually lo¬ 
quacious and good natured patient. 

Miss Beatrice Morton was a tall, 
lithe and willowy woman with keen 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


17 


blue eyes from which darted an oc¬ 
casional roguish glance — dancing, 
sparkling eyes which could show an 
intensity of fire as well as a softness 
and mellowness of sympathy. Around 
her inviting lips there played an al¬ 
most perpetual coquettish smile, which 
frequently merged into an expression 
of set determination and force when 
the patient became refractor^. Her 
dark brown hair was artistically dress¬ 
ed to heighten a rare beauty which 
radiated from every lineament of a 
face that beamed with intelligence and 
character. And withal, she possessed 
a captivating manner that conquered 
the patient and won his confidence and 
esteem ’ere he became aware of its ef¬ 
fect. Arrayed in the costume of un¬ 
sullied white—the insignia and the 
emblem of the ministering angel of 


18 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


mercy in the sick room—she present¬ 
ed as perfect a picture of lovliness as 
the eyes of John Henderson had ever 
beheld. 

“Why all this peculiar reserve and 
reticence on this most beautiful morn¬ 
ing V 9 repeated Miss Morton. “You 
should really feel quite happy on this 
day of all days.’ ’ 

Turning from the perspective of 
steeples and church spires, of house 
tops and tall buildings that cut the sky 
line of the great city, from the pano¬ 
rama of the blue empyrean flecked 
with fleeting whitecaps, from the ver- 
dured hills across the bay, from the 
shifting mass of humanity that throng¬ 
ed the streets below,—a smile playing 
on his lips—John Henderson quietly 
said: 

“How long do I stay here?” 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


19 


“Doctor Breckley said you were to 
remain here several weeks,’’ replied 
Miss Morton. 

“I imagined so,” retorted Hender¬ 
son. “The Doctor knows best, but 
while I am here, I shall strive to make 
my stay as pleasant as possible. Please 
order another box of candy for your¬ 
self and the nurses. You know that 
nurses like candy. I shall try to dis¬ 
turb you as little as possible, but being 
here we must try to amuse ourselves 
even though it is in a hospital . 91 

“Doctor Breckley is very careful,” 
ventured Miss Morton. 

“Yes, I know he is and so is the 
nurse—she is extremely clever. I ap¬ 
preciate your loyal and sympathetic 
attention—you are one of the sweet¬ 
est girls I ever met— you are—” 

“All men say those nice things of 


20 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


their nurses. Men are very apprecia¬ 
tive. While they are patients, they 
admire the nurses and tell them how 
much they love them, but after they 
leave the hospital, they become absorb¬ 
ed in their own business affairs, and, 
except in very rare instances, forget 
all about the nurse. It’s just human 
nature, ’ ’ interrupted Miss Morton. 

“Indeed, is that so,” replied Hen¬ 
derson. “I—” 

“Now, really, you must be quiet— 
you are getting excited — you must 
cease talking,” interjected the nurse. 

Henderson, on this gentle reproof 
from the tactful and diplomatic nurse, 
relapsed into silence and reserve 
again, which was broken several mo¬ 
ments after by the question, 

“Miss Morton, do you believe in 
dreams ? ’ ’ 


DREAMS COME TRUE 21 

* ‘ I do not know—there is something 
so wonderful about them that 1 am 
not so sure of my ground on that sub¬ 
ject—it is the realm of the psycholo¬ 
gist. Patients recovering from the 
anesthetic frequently have weird 
dreams. I have had them myself .’’ 

“I believe in dreams” said Hen¬ 
derson rather positively. 4 ‘ They eman¬ 
ate from the sub-conscious mind —the 
seat of the soul. The subconscious 
mind possesses a long memory. It re¬ 
tains the transmitted thoughts and ex¬ 
periences of our fore fathers of ages 
ago. When we dream of moving and 
living in the caves and the trees and of 
associating with the lower animals, it 
is just one of the pranks of the sub¬ 
conscious mind in remembering the ex¬ 
periences of our primitave parents in 
the childhood of the race. The sub- 


22 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


conscious mind works while we sleep. ’ ’ 
‘ 1 That is a wonderful theory—there 
may he something in dreams after 
all,” said Miss Morton. 

“There is indeed,” said Henderson 
in reply. “I have frequently gone 
through experiences which seemed 
quite familiar to me. It seemed that I 
was reproducing events that had al¬ 
ready transpired. I had dreamed in 
the past that I was to do the things 
that I was then engaged in doing. ’ 1 
“Wonderful,” interrupted the in¬ 
terested nurse. 

“So you see the dream takes us 
back over the past into the dim vista 
of the dawn of the soul and projects 
us into the future, prophesying the 
events that are to come. The subcon¬ 
scious mind is a wonderful mechanism. 
It stores up the hopes, the thoughts 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


23 


and the aspirations of the conscious 
mind. By the way, will you kindly 
have Miss Broyle call in to see me this 
afternoon, when you are out visiting 
your sister. You know whom I mean- 
the sweet, little golden haired nurse 
they call ‘Agnes’.” 

“What sort of a conspiracy are you 
folks engaged in—Miss Broyle always 
calls to see you when I am out, ’’ laugh¬ 
ingly remarked Miss Morton. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I don’t know,—all the girls on 
the floor are nice to me, and I assure 
you that I enjoy their visits very 
much. Please, Miss Morton, don’t get 
jealous, no one can supplant you in 
my affections,” retorted Henderson. 

“You seem very unhappy today, do 
you ever have happy thoughts when 
you are well,” slyly said the nurse. 

There was an opportune knock at 


24 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


the door and into the room, like a ray 
of sunshine, burst Miss Broyle radi¬ 
antly attired in an elegant Easter 
gown and hat, carrying a bouquet of 
magnificent lilies. 

4 ‘I have just returned from the ca¬ 
thedral—the services were wonderful 
—the music sublime and the words of 
the preacher most eloquent, I thought 
you would like to hear of them, Mr. 
Henderson. I also brought you these 
flowers to grace the bureau and to 
remind you of the day—perhaps to 
recall to your mind the wild flowers 
on the hillsides in the Sierras,’’ said 
the visiting nurse. 

‘‘Glad you came—you just saved 
the situation—my patient was about 
to become very peevish,” suggested 
Miss Morton. 

The laughter that followed was 


DREAMS COME TRUE 25 

quieted by Miss Broyle, who said, 

4 'Who is James, Miss Morton? Here 
is a postal from him saying that he is 
lonesome for you. ’ ’ 

Miss Morton could not conceal the 
blush that suffused her cheeks while 
Henderson became quite interested. 

"Oh, your nurse is very clever and 
diplomatic — very tactful and very 
popular,” suggested Miss Broyle in 
order to change the drift of the con¬ 
versation. 

Henderson passed the afternoon 
very pleasantly with Miss Broyle in 
the discussion of the Easter service 
at the Cathedral. 


II 


As the days grew on apace, with 
Henderson on the high road to recov- 


26 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


ery, his thoughts were devoted to the 
enjoyment of his stay in the hospital. 
While he found the moments spent in 
the company of Miss Morton were 
fraught with unalloyed pleasure, he 
also discovered a feeling of lonesome¬ 
ness during her absence. She was 
responsive to every wish of her patient 
and thoroughly in sympathy with his 
efforts to amuse himself. 

There were pleasant little parties in 
Henderson’s room at which Miss Mor¬ 
ton demonstrated rare tact and charm 
as the gracious hostess. Henderson 
enjoyed the social chit-chat, the gossip 
and the news of the hospital. Not the 
least interesting were the reminis¬ 
cences of their undergraduate days at 
their Alma Mater. 

“Whatever you say goes with me,” 
was the reply of Henderson to the 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


27 


suggestions of Miss Morton. “You are 
the lady of this household/ ’ 

The young women—the nurses in 
training—who visited Miss Morton in 
Henderson’s room and who partici¬ 
pated in the dainty functions held 
there were charming, buoyant with 
life, ambitious, bubbling with energy 
and mirth. They contributed materi¬ 
ally to the joy experienced by Miss 
Morton and her patient in their first 
visit to Mount Zion. 

When there was no visiting and no 
entertaining, Henderson spent the 
larger portion of his time in reading 
aloud to Miss Morton — a pleasure 
which they both enjoyed. What if 
Bobby Burns’ “Highland Mary” and 
those other poems of the roystering 
Scottish poet acquired a deeper sig¬ 
nificance when read aloud by Hender- 


28 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


son; what if Omar with his ‘ ‘Loaf of 
bread, his book of verse, his jug of 
wine and thou beneath the bough by 
the river’s side” became invested with 
a more lively interest; what if Shake¬ 
speare’s love sonnets recited in the 
soft glow of the midnight lamp, were 
given a more sentimental interpreta¬ 
tion,-in the rendition of these thought 
gems from the master minds of poesy 
Miss Morton must surely have become 
aware, from the intensity of the feel¬ 
ing displayed by the reader, that he 
was unfolding his very soul to her. 

III. 

In the cloudland of Henderson’s 
fancy, Hamilton Park, as he peered in 
its direction through the long days 
of his convalesence, became the fairy 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


29 


forest of his youthful reveries—the 
romantic grove where the playful and 
lively elves made merry holiday. 

In his mind’s eye, he pictured the 
little boy in the red sweater coat as 
one of the most powerful spirits of 
this pleasure ground as he tumbled 
over the trapeze and gracefully swung 
around the horizontal bar while the 
sweet faced girl in the blue frock who 
jumped with glee as the big brother 
performed as a most captivating 
nymph. 

When Miss Morton suggested that 
he was strong enough to walk to this 
golden garden of youthful activity, 
Henderson received the invitation 
with unfeigned delight; for he had 
yearned to join these folks in the play, 
to mingle with them as they frisked 
over the green and to hold converse 


30 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


with the urchins as they moved to and 
fro. 

The atmosphere’s genial warmth, 
coupled with the exhilaration of the 
walk, albeit supported by the strong 
arm of the nurse, and the prospect of 
getting into the outer world again, 
gave an inspiration to the thoughts of 
Henderson. Sitting on the bench, he 
joyously spoke to the children at play. 

“Miss Morton,” said Henderson 
rather suddenly to the nurse, “I had 
a most pleasant dream about you some 
time ago which I have hesitated to tell 
you . 9 9 

“Let me hear it,” replied the nurse. 
“You have made a confidant of me in 
regard to everything else—even to 
your romances—your hopes and as¬ 
pirations—surely you would not keep 
this dream from me. And you have 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


31 


almost persuaded me to believe in 
dreams/’ 

Dubious of Miss Morton’s reception 
of the recital, Henderson hesitated. 
Noting Henderson’s reluctance, Miss 
Morton quickly said, 11 If you feel that 
way about it, why let the dream re¬ 
main unspoken.’ 9 

“Please restrain yourself~I will tell 
it to you,” said Henderson after a 
pause. 

“I dreamt that when I left the hos¬ 
pital we parted good friends,” said 
Henderson beginning the story of the 
dream. 

“That’s very nice--I hope we shall 
ever remain friends,” replied the 
nurse. 

“And we did not meet again for 
several years,” continued Henderson. 

“That’s life, you know, in our line 


32 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


of work,” interrupted Miss Morton. 
4 ‘Longfellow says, 


‘Ships that pass in the night and speak each 
other in passing, 

Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the 
darkness; 

So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one 
another, 

Only a look and a voice, then darkness again 
and silence/ 


* ‘ That is the way it is with us 
nurses—a signal of distress, a look 
and a voice of sympathy and succor, 
and a silence forever. We rarely see 
our patients again.” 

“And when we met again, each fell 
in love with the other—that’s the 
dream, ’ ’ said Henderson quietly. 

The red sweater boy and the blue 
frocked girl romped into the Park and 
Henderson clasped the little tot to 


DREAMS COME TRUE 33 

his bosom and grasped the hand of 
the boy. 

‘ 4 That’s a very pretty dream—but 
do dreams ever come true,” said Miss 
Morton to Henderson, after their re¬ 
turn to the hospital. 

“They at least represent our fond¬ 
est hopes and desires,” replied Hen¬ 
derson. 

IV. 

At length the day arrived for Hen¬ 
derson ’s departure from the hospital. 
With an emotion of regret he was 
about to reluctantly say “Good Bye” 
to the place that had been his home 
during the most fateful moments of 
his life and with an overcoming feel¬ 
ing of sadness, he was about to bid 
adieu—perhaps forever—to the Nurse 
who had so splendidly cared for him 


34 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


during his illness. Her charming and 
unselfish comradeship, the inspiration 
that comes from companionship with 
women whose work counts in a world 
of misery and pain, the friendly asso¬ 
ciations and the tender memories—the 
camaraderie of his hospital days— 
these were soon to be merged into the 
past. 

As on more than one occasion on 
this day he sought to bid farewell to 
Miss Morton, so he made more than 
one effort to speak the things that 
pressed for utterance. 

44 Miss Morton ,’’ he would say, “I 
wish to say-” 

4 4 Don’t say 4 Good Bye 9 till you go, ’ ’ 
would invariably he the reply of Miss 
Morton as she interrupted the sentence 
of Henderson. 

Toward evening the taxicab arrived. 



DREAMS COME TRUE 


35 


With a lightsome tread and unaided— 
though somewhat weak—Henderson 
entered the vehicle. A cordial farewell 
to all who gathered to see him depart 
—the taxi whisked away into the dusk 
of the parting day and with it sped 
Henderson on his way to his mountain 
home and to his work—a well man 
again. 

As the taxicab rolled on to its des¬ 
tination, Henderson thought that he 
had detected an unusual heartiness in 
the handshake of Miss Morton as he 
entered it and that he witnessed more 
than a prefunctory wave of the hand 
as it moved away. He knew that he 
detected an intensity and a sadness of 
expression on her face that he had not 
noted before. 

The thoughts that were uppermost 
in his mind—the things that he desir- 


36 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


ed to say to the Nurse in parting—the 
words of appreciation and of admira¬ 
tion—these were unuttered and un¬ 
said. 

y. 

After Henderson’s return to his 
home, the weeks merged into months 
and the months into years. Though 
he became engrossed in his practice, 
he often recalled his hospital days. In 
the few hurried professional trips that 
he made to San Francisco, he unfortu¬ 
nately never had the pleasure of meet¬ 
ing Miss Morton, owing to engage¬ 
ments that caused her to be absent 
from the city. From Doctor Breckley 
whom he occasionally met at the club, 
he learned of Miss Morton’s activity. 
With the exception of a brief postal 
card inscription which each received 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


37 


from the other at varying intervals, 
the Doctor constituted their only 
medium of communication. 

Henderson, however, never waver¬ 
ed in his estimate of Miss Morton’s 
character, nor abated his admiration 
of her charm. While he esteemed h w 
highly, he was yet doubtful of her 
opinion of himself and therefore re¬ 
frained from pressing his attentions 
upon the object of his silent worship. 

Three years after Henderson’s de¬ 
parture from the hospital, a distant 
relative, a cousin’s son, in the most 
effusive and endearing language, re¬ 
quested the presence of “Uncle John” 
at his graduation from Stanford Uni¬ 
versity. 

Eagerly and gladly, the rough old 
mountain practitioner accepted the 
young lad’s invitation; for it recalled 


38 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


the most important moment in his 
own life, when, twenty years previous¬ 
ly, he had received his parchment from 
the same institution. It conjured up 
memories of the early struggle. But 
prior to his departure for the scene of 
his initial trial with the problems of 
life he thoughtfully wrote a brief note 
to Miss Morton informing her of his 
intention of revisiting the Quad. 

With a light heart and in gay spirits 
John Henderson journeyed to the Uni¬ 
versity on that beautiful day in May. 
The fields were abloom with myriads 
of poppies and wild flowers. The at¬ 
mosphere was heavily laden with the 
incense of the blossoms. The sun 
never shone more resplendently nor 
was the air more vibrant with life. As 
Henderson’s automobile sped along 
the State Highway from San Fran- 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


39 


cisco to Palo Alto, the birds coquetted 
among the trees and sang love songs 
to each other. Heaven and earth 
thoroughly attuned, it was the rare 
day that Sir Launfal so poetically 
described. 

As the machine moved rapidly 
over the smooth road that led to the 
sanctuary of learning, Henderson won¬ 
dered whether or not he would meet 
Miss Morton at the exercises. Her 
home was close to the University. She 
had been reared within its shadow 
and in its classic atmosphere. She 
knew its joys and sorrows, its history, 
aspirations and ideals. She had spent 
the most enjoyable days of her youth 
upon its campus. As a girl she had 
been fondled by its founders. She had 
seen them build the majestic propor¬ 
tions of their permanent memorial. 


40 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


That she might attend the annual 
meeting of the Alumni, she yearly 
planned to be present at her home 
during the Commencement Week. And 
Henderson recalled the dream of his 
hospital days—had she forgotten it ? 

Arriving at the University, Hender¬ 
son, joined by the young nephew, 
sought Memorial Court where he hop¬ 
ed to meet friends of the olden day. 
Treading the old Quad with the lad, 
with lightsome step as in the years 
gone by, he lost himself in the maze 
of the newer Quad. The University 
had grown since he received his de¬ 
gree. He visited Memorial Church 
and was entranced with its beauty— 
his last view of it was when it was a 
sad mass of ruins after the Great 
Earthquake. He mingled with the 
throng at the new Gymnasium and at 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


41 


the Stanford Union. He was welcom¬ 
ed at Encina Hall, where he had pass¬ 
ed his under graduate days, by stud¬ 
ents who had not yet left for their 
homes. With its host of new homes 
of artistic architecture, the Row at¬ 
tracted his gaze. Yet wherever he 
went he failed to see Miss Morton— 
she was not on the campus. 

Henderson found no interest in the 
mass of humanity that crowded the 
new Assembly Hall. The ensemble 
failed to impress his mind. The 
beauty of the building and its interior 
embellishments did not appeal to hie 
sense of artistry. The sonorous musie 
of the choir, the majestic strains of the 
University Orchestra, the eloquently 
said words of Dr. Jordan, whom Hen¬ 
derson revered with a filial love, the 
oratory of Reverend Brown as h© 


42 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


preached the baccalaureate sermon, all 
fell on ears that listened listlessly. 
Even the presentation of the parch¬ 
ment to the nephew was a mere pass¬ 
ing incident. 

Leaving the Assembly Hall after the 
exercises, Henderson repaired to the 
Stanford Bookstore from which place 
he telephoned to Miss Morton’s home. 

“Is Miss Morton at home,” asked 
Henderson tremulously. 

“No,” was the answer from her 
mother. “She came home a few days 
ago to attend the Commencement Ex¬ 
ercises at the University as is her 
yearly custom since she graduated. 
But she received an urgent call for 
duty from her Doctor to take charge 
of a very delicate case in the country. 
While responding to the call of duty, 
she regretted it very much for she 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


43 


said she expected to meet at the exer¬ 
cises this year an old friend of her ’s— 
a former patient whom she knew 
would be present this year. ’ ’ 

“ Thank you,” said Henderson, 
sadly. 

With the nephew, Henderson sped 
back to San Francisco and returned 
to his mountain home. 

Fate evidently had decreed that he 
and Miss Morton should not yet meet. 

The dream could not yet come true. 




4 








C u V 

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DREAMS COME TRUE 


45 


III. 

The Year After 

With a modesty and tact that were 
among her many crowning virtues, 
Miss Morton studiously refrained 
from referring to the story or to any 
of its incidents. 

While written by John Henderson, 
patient, about himself and his Nurse 
she deemed it but a diversion and a 
mere flight of fancy on his part, rather 
than a vehicle for the manifestation 
of his thought or of his expression of 
opinion concerning her. She assumed 
that he wrote the story as a matter 
of courtesy because she requested it. 

In a few days Henderson left the 
hospital in a manner quite similar to 
that described in the story. After a 
few weeks’ visit with friends, during 


46 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


which he regained all his former 
strength, he returned to his home at 
Mountford and resumed the practice 
of his profession, taking up the 
tangled threads of business and liti¬ 
gation where he had left them prior to 
his departure for the hospital. 

Welcoming him back to his accus¬ 
tomed place in the life of Mountford, 
John Henderson’s friends rejoiced at 
his restoration to health. To the men 
of the town and to his associates, he 
was the same rough and ready moun¬ 
tain lawyer, popular, easy going, jov¬ 
ial John Henderson, bon vivant and 
raconteur. But to John Henderson, 
he was not his former self. Two 
months of enforced rest, snatched 
from a busy and active life that suc¬ 
ceeded years of striving, two months 
of illness, albeit not serious, two 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


47 


months of devoted service in the sick 
room from a loyal nurse—these two 
months had given John Henderson 
the opportunity for introspection and 
retrospection. And John Henderson, 
college graduate, lawyer, leader of the 
bar of his county, legal adviser of 
the wealthiest people and concerns in 
his neighborhood, — John Henderson, 
good fellow and mountain roysterer, 
suddenly realized that he had pursued 
a life’s course incompatible with true 
happiness. And the thought burned 
into the inner consciousness of John 
Henderson’s brain. 

John Henderson esteemed highly a 
souvenir that Miss Morton had given 
him. On his office desk, occupying a 
most prominent position was a folded 
bit of lightly colored cardboard. 
Clients noted the sedulous care that he 


48 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


bestowed upon it and yet refrained 
from comment. It was a slight token 
from the Nurse who delighted to visit 
the Great Exposition. On it were 
printed a few stanzas written in mem¬ 
ory of its closing. Their title was 
‘‘After The Lights Went Out”—“The 
Plaint of the Duck Baby.” Opposite 
the poem was a photogravure of the 
Little Duck Baby. On the lower right 
corner was a small picture of that 
magnificent piece of statuary, “The 
End of the Trail.” Across the poem 
was written in a bold feminine hand¬ 
writing, “Sincerely, Beatrice Mor¬ 
ton. ’’ As Henderson daily glanced at 
this voiceless yet speaking memento, 
there came a yearning into his soul 
for it recalled a vision, an experience, 
a chastening. Had John Henderson, 
“with an aching heart” come to the 


DREAMS COME TRUE 49 

“End of the Trail V 9 

For over a year John Henderson 
labored at his desk, among his papers 
and in the courts. Every day of that 
year, there was a silent call to him 
from the metropolis—a call that, as 
the year drew to its close, became irre- 
sistable. That call was answered 
when he journeyed to San Francisco 
to argue an important case before the 
Supreme Court of California. The 
visit to the seat of justice was made 
by Henderson with certain hopes and 
misgivings. 

The lawyers present at the argu¬ 
ment as well as the Justices noted 
that the mountain practitioner, whose 
reputation as a forensic pleader was 
well known, presented the case with 
more than ordinary fire and vehe¬ 
mence, and they marveled at the elo- 


50 DREAMS COME TRUE 

quence and lucidity of the presenta¬ 
tion. They also noted the hurriedness 
with which Henderson left the court as 
soon as the case was submitted for it 
had been his custom in the past to 
tarry and enjoy the company of the 
attorneys from other parts of the state 
and to visit with the learned Justices 
in chambers. 

Leaving the building at the corner 
of Second and Mission Streets—the 
tall fawn colored edifice which houses 
the court of last resort of the state and 
which has been the scene of many a 
contest in which weighty problems of 
law and right have been adjudicated, 
the place in which Justice with blind¬ 
ed eyes presides—Henderson rapidly 
walked up Second Street to Market. 
He attempted to cross this thorough¬ 
fare, crowded with street cars, moving 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


51 


automobiles, vehicles, and pedestrians. 
A foot slip on the murky pavement, a 
skidding automobile—and amidst the 
hush of appalled men and fainting 
women, the unconscious and mangled 
form of John Henderson was picked 
from the pavement, placed in an am¬ 
bulance and hurried to the Emergency. 

From his mud-begrimed and blood- 
spattered clothes, the attendants ex¬ 
tracted a pocket wallet. It contained 
his name and address. Untouched by 
mud or blood, there was in it his card 
of membership in the Mystic Shrine 
lodge of San Francisco. Communica¬ 
tion was immediately had with its sec¬ 
retary who took charge of the injured 
man. Remembering Henderson’s pre¬ 
vious experience, he at once procured 
the services of Doctor Breckley. The 
patient was removed to Mount Zion 


52 DREAMS COME TRUE 

Hospital where it was ascertained that 
he had suffered a fractured skull, and 
required the most sedulous care. Doc¬ 
tor Breckley sent Miss Morton, who 
had just returned from the country, to 
nurse Henderson. 

As she bent sympathetically and 
pityingly over the silent form of Hen¬ 
derson during his period of uncon¬ 
sciousness, as she listened to his sub¬ 
dued breathing, as she moved his al¬ 
most inanimate body, as she faithfully 
and almost religiously responded to 
his every want, the thought was borne 
into her consciousness that while life 
itself was so wonderful, the mutations 
of fate were even more so. She hoped 
to meet Henderson under more auspi¬ 
cious circumstances, yet Fate which 
had peculiarly kept them apart had 
brought them together again in the 


DREAMS COME TRUE 53 

hospital. The more thought she be¬ 
stowed on the series of events, the 
clearer she saw the finger point of 
destiny. 

“The moving finger writes and 
having writ, 

Moves on.” 

One afternoon when Henderson was 
still unconscious, Miss Morton bent 
over his almost silent form to ascer¬ 
tain if the patient was breathing. Her 
face almost touched his. Suddenly 
his eyes opened. He recognized. Ex¬ 
tending his arms, he gently entwined 
them around her neck, and pressing 
her cheek to his, he feebly said, “I 
love you.” 

Henderson relapsed into uncon¬ 
sciousness. Miss Morton stood before 
him in breathless excitement. The 
incident was not reported on the chart 


54 


DREAMS COME TRUE 


though Doctor Breckley was informed 
that the patient had been conscious for 
one fleeting moment — one fleeting 
moment during which he had express¬ 
ed his whole thought and hope. 

Henderson gained strength after 
this incident, and during his convales- 
ence there was a frank interchange 
of thought between him and Miss Mor¬ 
ton. 

On the day of his discharge from the 
hospital, John Henderson and Miss 
Morton went forth into the world to¬ 
gether—gaily, happily, joyously. 

The ships that had passed each 
other in the night of illness and pain 
and had sent forth the signal of solemn 
recognition of heart and soul, met 
again to voyage together upon the 
ocean of life. 

The dream came true. 






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